


That Thing He Does

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1998-07-31
Updated: 1998-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-20 12:32:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11335695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Mulder and Krycek collide with Phoebe Green.





	That Thing He Does

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

That Thing He Does by MariaJ

Tue, 17 Feb 1998 01:12:46 -0500  
Never having been on time for anything in my life (ask my parents, friends or tutors!!) an idea for that short-short-story contest last year (who won, anyway?) didn't hit me until recently. Here it is, anyway. Not beta'd. They're not mine. Archive at MKRA, if you want.

* * *

That Thing He Does  
By MariaJ (c) February 1998  
<>

"Mulder." He knows that voice, and turns around slowly, hesitantly. Oh no. Oh fucking hell. He doesn't need this, not now, not here. "Fancy running into you."

"And who're you then?"

Reluctantly she turns her gaze towards the man who's suddenly stepped between them and Mulder sees her take in the leather jacket, the empty sleeve, the menacing glare in the green eyes. If the situation wasn't so ludicrous, he'd be pleased with this instant and jealous reaction from his lover. 

"I'm Phoebe Green, an old friend of Mulder's. And you are?"

"So you're the bitch?"

"*Excuse* me?"

"You taught him that thing with the tongue?"

"*What*?" 

Throwing an angry glare in the direction of the old couple who isn't even trying to conceal that they're eavesdropping, Krycek whispers something in her ear. Phoebe's eyes swerve in Mulder's direction, shocked, amazed, and a little aroused.

"And that thing, truly *astonishing,* with his hands..." Krycek makes a gesture with his own hand, showing her. It looks vaguely obscene, and knowing what *that thing* really is, Mulder blushes. The old couple looks amused. Phoebe is salivating. Krycek has got that wicked gleam in his eyes.

That does it. Sulkily, fully aware that he's behaving like a five-year-old, Mulder stomps out of Room 50A 'Sculpture & Architecture Britain' at the Victoria & Albert Museum. This had been a bad idea from the start. "Come on, Mulder, you need a vacation. Relax, Mulder, what could possibly happen? Calm down, Mulder, no one will recognize you." In the end, he'd just caved in, and now see what that had led to. 

Shitshitshitshit.

He's pacing on the platform, waiting for the Central Line train, by the time Krycek finally saunters up to him. "I can't fucking *believe* you did that," Mulder says angrily, backing away.

"Relax, we're in London."

"Contrary to popular opinion, not every man in Britain is queer, so get your *sodding* hand *off* me." Nonchalantly, a study of sleek grace and feral instincts, Krycek pounces. "You'll get us arrested," Mulder mumbles weekly, feeling his resistance drain away at the sensation of Krycek's warm body against his own.

"Shhhh..." Krycek kisses him, and nervously Mulder returns the kiss, braiding his fingers behind Krycek's neck. Then he feels the other man's hand on his fly. "I told her you're mine, love." 

Why does he even fight? One look into those iridescent eyes and he's lost. For the umpteenth time, Mulder is struck by the extraordinary truth that this beautiful man actually wants *him,* that Krycek returns again and again, like a homing pigeon, to tease him, and believe him, and make love to him until Mulder's body aches and his soul sings. 

Desperately, hanging onto his lover for dear life, he doesn't make a single sound until stars explode behind his eyelids. 

"Mulder... She told me about the egg beater. Sounds interesting." Mustering his shattered dignity, Krycek's laughter ringing in his ears, Mulder arranges his clothes again, and stomps off to the other end of the platform. 

*** The End. ***


End file.
